


Clean

by heyjupiter



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drug Use, F/M, Happy Ending, New Zealand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5684779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"We're not just going to shoot this up our arms, Jesse, we're not! We're better than that!" Jane says, and she means it. She marches to the bathroom and flushes all the heroin down the toilet, all of it.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [biblionerd07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblionerd07/gifts).



> Merry Blue Christmeth, biblionerd07!
> 
> Thanks to likeadeuce for beta reading!

Jane stares at the hideous mural on the community center walls. She'd made fun of the mural's overly-cheerful, ambiguously-aged children to her father once, and he'd suggested that she should volunteer to paint a new mural. It would be productive, he'd said. But her art wouldn't be appreciated here. It would make Jane so sad to pour herself into a mural only to have it wasted on the other losers in NA.

She forces her gaze away from the mural and looks at something almost as depressing: a poster outlining the 12 Steps. _Step 1: We admitted that we were powerless over our addiction; that our lives had become unmanageable._ It's bullshit, though. Jane isn't powerless because of her addiction. She's powerless because of her father.

She looks away from the poster and stares at the door, thinking of escape and Georgia O'Keefe while another addict tells another sad story. Her father nudges her and she shifts her gaze off the door, back onto the person who's talking, but her attention is still drifting. 

It's true that she doesn't deserve this sobriety chip anymore, not strictly speaking. But she deserves to be happy. She deserves to feel good. Getting high with Jesse makes her feel good. Going to NA meetings with her father makes her feel like garbage. 

Sometimes Jane talks to other NA members, and sometimes they ask about her father. Sometimes they tell her she's lucky to have so much family support, that she's lucky not to have been cast into the streets the way some of them were. It's true, she supposes: she's never been homeless. She's thought about it, about leaving the comfortable little house her father has trapped her in. If she takes nothing from him, she'll be free from him.

But so far, she hasn't been able to commit to such a bold plan. Jane likes to feel good, and for now, she's pretty sure that the physical discomforts of being homeless, or squatting at the shooting gallery, would outweigh whatever emotional benefits she'd gain from leaving her father's duplex.

So she points her eyes at the speaker, and afterward, she lies to her father. She lies blatantly about Jesse, she lies by omission about her sobriety. The truth wouldn't make him happy, and she'd rather keep him happy than have a clean conscience.

* * *

She watches Jesse sleep. Had he been serious? Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars? From day one she'd figured he was into something shady--people with legit jobs didn't need to pay their rent in cash. But even after he'd confessed his job to her, even after he'd referred to another murdered dealer as one of his "guys," she'd assumed he was a pretty low-level dealer, not some kind of kingpin with almost half a million dollars coming to him.

Jesse had been pretty out of it when he'd mentioned the amount, but he isn’t a good liar. She believes him, as implausible as it seems.

The memory is fresh in her mind when her father drops by uninvited, and she makes a plan as soon as he leaves, swearing he'll be back to take her to rehab at 6am tomorrow.

"Jeez," Jesse says. He frantically gathers possessions into a bag, starting with the baseball bat he'd attempted to defend himself with. 

"Jesse, were you serious about the money? Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars?"

"Yeah, totally," Jesse says. "But it doesn't matter, he won't give it to me until I'm clean. Maybe your dad's right, maybe we should both go to rehab…"

"No way, we don't need rehab. Have you ever been there?"

"No, but it can't be that bad, right? I mean it's not like we're really addicts anyway."

"Yeah, well, it's boring as shit, and you're in there with a bunch of sad-sack junkies. Not people like us."

"Oh. But it's not forever, right. It's what, like, a week?"

"A _month_ , at least. I'm not going. Let's get that money from--what's his name?"

"Walter White," Jesse says, his tone bitter and possessive.

"How'd you meet him, anyway? He's not really your dad."

"He _acts_ like he's my dad. But he was my high school teacher."

"What? No way, that's totally fucked," Jane says, eyebrows raised. 

"Yeah, my chemistry teacher, so like, that's why he's so good at chemistry… he saw me almost get busted by his brother in law."

Jane looks at Jesse. "I'll get your money," she says confidently. "And then it'll be like I said, if we have enough money, nobody can make us do anything."

"What are you gonna do? We can't rob him, he's got kids and shit."

"Give me his number. Trust me."

Jesse looks at her for a moment with his wide blue eyes. Then he tells her everything.

"This'll be easy," Jane says. "Guy like that, he doesn't want all his dirty laundry out in the air."

* * *

Shutting the door in Walter White's face after he drops off a duffel bag full of cash feels _amazing_. It's the best high Jane has ever felt in her life.

"We're not just going to shoot this up our arms, Jesse, we're not! We're better than that!" Jane says, and she means it. She can see it so clearly. It's just like she'd told Jesse: now that they've got this money, no one can tell them what to do. Her father can't force her go to rehab, and he can't hold eviction over Jesse's head anymore. So what if Jesse can't live in this shitty little duplex anymore? They'll find a better place, and they won't owe anyone anything.

She marches to the bathroom and flushes all the heroin down the toilet, all of it. She can't deny feeling a small twinge of regret, and she thinks she might have blocked up the toilet, but--it's gone. She remembers the look on Walter White's face, and she thinks about what it will feel like when she steps off the plane in New Zealand.

Jesse trails behind her. "You really flushed it all?"

"Yes!" Jane says excitedly. "We don't need it. We have to get out of here. My father will be here tomorrow morning, and I bet Walt will be thinking of something too, some way to stop you."

"Okay!" Jesse says. "So… should we go to the airport? I guess?" His brow furrows.

"Do you have a passport?" Jane asks. She knows she's going to have to be the planner, here, but that's fine. She can do it.

"Passport… uh, yeah! We took a family vacation to the Bahamas once."

"Do you have it? Is it expired?"

"They expire?" Jesse's face falls. "I think I have it around here… or no, it's probably at my parents' house. Fuck!"

"Okay. That's okay. Let's just… let's get the rest of our stuff and go to a hotel for tonight, and we can figure everything else out there."

"Okay, yeah," Jesse says, brightening. "Good thinking. And I bet Saul can get me a fake passport!"

"That's good. That's a good idea, actually." Jane has a valid passport, but she says, "Let's both get fake passports and then no one will be able to find us!"

"Yes!"

"But for now, just get your stuff and let's go."

"Yeah," Jesse agrees. He puts some clothes in a backpack, then adds his sketchbook. He shrugs.

Jane says, "That's fine. We'll let my dad deal with whatever shit we leave behind, and we can buy new clothes when we need to."

She clutches the bag of money and makes a quick stop at her place to pick up a few favorite things, including her laptop. She hesitates, then leaves a note for her father. She writes, _Jesse and I went to get clean. P.S. Don't worry about my houseplants_ , and leaves it on her kitchen table.

Then she and Jesse get in Jesse's Toyota and she directs him downtown, to the Hotel Andaluz. She'd rather stay here than some soulless chain like Holiday Inn, and they can afford it. She says, "Here, wait here a second and let me get us a room." Jesse looks a little rough right now. 

"Yeah, okay," Jesse says. He sounds a bit anxious. 

"I'll be right back," Jane promises, leaning in to kiss him. He looks relieved when she returns, proudly flashing two keycards at him. "I got us a suite, babe, it's gonna be awesome."

"Awesome," Jesse repeats. "You think they get the good cable channels?"

"Only one way to find out," Jane says. They go up to the suite, which does indeed include all the premium cable channels, as well as the most comfortable bed Jane has ever slept in. She and Jesse enthusiastically break it in and afterwards, Jesse says, sleepily, "Hey, maybe that's the last time we do it in New Mexico."

Jane raises her eyebrows. "You planning on getting an early start tomorrow?"

"What? Oh, oh, I get what you're saying. Okay, second-to-last, maybe." Proudly, he adds, " _Penultimate_."

She smiles. Jesse is rarely more adorable than when he's learned something new. He curls an arm around her and mumbles, "Hope the penultimate time was good for you."

"Mm-hmm," she agrees. 

Jesse dozes off quickly, but Jane can't fall asleep. Her mind is racing, and she knows what would make her feel better. She knows she can't have it. It will ruin everything.

Instead, she waits until he's soundly asleep and then carefully extricates herself from his arm. She turns on her laptop, connects to the wireless internet, and starts looking up information about New Zealand. There's no point in booking flights yet, not if they're getting new passports, but the slowly-loading pictures do look beautiful. She can think of much worse places to live. Like Albuquerque, for example.

She bookmarks information about work visas, expatriate communities, even a place for Jesse to get his pilot's license, if that's what he really wants. (Part of her suspects that whim of his will pass, but then, Jesse can be surprisingly dedicated. It's one of the things she likes best about him. She also likes the idea of flying. If Jesse doesn't, maybe _she'll_ get her pilot's license. Wouldn't that surprise her father?) Finally, excited and exhausted, she shuts down the laptop and joins Jesse in bed.

She wakes up a few hours later, shivering and sweating. Half-asleep, Jesse strokes her hair. "You okay?" he asks.

"Fine," she says through gritted teeth. She's been through this before. She doesn't need heroin. She needs a distraction. She pulls Jesse to her, kissing him and running her hands down his chest. He responds, pleasantly surprised, and as eager to please her as ever.

The sun's up when they finish, and Jesse orders room service breakfast with a childish delight. His face falls when she won't eat anything.

"I'm just not hungry, babe," she says, though the truth is she'd hate to puke all over this fancy hotel room. "I'm gonna take a shower."

She lets the water run over her for a long time, trying to fight her way through the withdrawal. She knows it should pass in a day or so… she leaves the water running and dry heaves in the toilet at the thought of feeling like this for another day. It'll be worth it, though, when she and Jesse are free… free from the addiction, from her father, from all this bullshit. She cleans herself up and finds Jesse smoking a cigarette on the room's balcony. 

She lights one up herself and says, "Let's get out of here soon and see that guy about the passports."

"Yeah!" Jesse agrees.

"You should shower first, though," she says.

"Oh, yeah," Jesse replies, looking down at his filthy self. "Good call, yo."

While he showers, she paces the balcony, looking down on the city. She thinks about never seeing Albuquerque again. She feels numb. She tests out the idea of never visiting her mother's grave again, but that doesn't make her feel anything, either. It's not like her mom is really _there_ , it's just some bones and dust. Instead, she thinks about the waterfalls in New Zealand. She thinks about the sheep. She thinks about Jesse. She feels a stir of something at those thoughts, but mostly she thinks about how stupid it was to flush all that heroin. What had she been thinking?

Jesse, his hair wet and spiky, comes out on the balcony, looking like a freshly-bathed puppy. "Hey, you ready?"

Jane takes a deep breath. "Yeah. I'm ready." Jesse apparently isn't feeling any withdrawal effects. He hadn't done as much as she had, or for as long, but she still hated him for his good fortune.

He drives her out to a strip mall, parks in front of an office with a huge inflatable Statue of Liberty. Jane groans. "Here? This guy has the worst commercials."

"He's legit, yo, he'll help us out."

"Fine," Jane says. She digs in her purse and pulls out some Tylenol. She takes four. If Saul Goodman in person is anything like his commercials, she's gonna need them to get through this.

"Hey, you okay?" Jesse asks.

"Just a headache."

"Oh… okay. Well, don't take too many of those. You don't want to OD or nothing."

Jane lets out a harsh laugh and puts the Tylenol back in her purse. "Nothing to worry about," she assures him.

It's not yet 9 AM but there's already a crowd in Saul's waiting room. Jesse gets to cut the line, and he proudly introduces her to Saul as his girlfriend.

Saul says, "Hey, nice work, kid, she's a real looker," and Jane wants to punch him in the face. Then he says, "But hey, I'm betting you didn't come here just to gloat, so what can I do for you?"

Jesse says, "We want to get out of here, like, leave the country. But I was thinking we should probably get, like, new passports, right?"

Saul says, "Well, I don't know about her, but you don't have _much_ of a criminal record really… but it could be enough to cause you some trouble. What did you have in mind?"

"We're getting out of the business for good. We're just gonna move to New Zealand and like, paint, and stuff."

"Uh- _huh_ ," Saul says.

"It's just… Mr. White's such an asshole, and with Combo gone... and my parents… and her dad… and we just want to start over. Mr. White finally gave me my share of the money, and we're just gonna… take it and go," Jesse says earnestly.

"Well… good for you, kid," Saul says after a long pause. "I do, as it happens, know a guy… but here's the catch. You visit him, you get new identities… that's it. You're gone. You can never come back to Albuquerque."

"Obviously," Jane says.

Jesse shrugs. "Yeah, whatever."

"It's not cheap, either," Saul warns. "Of course, you can afford it. But are you sure you've thought this through?"

" _Yes_ ," Jesse says.

Saul looks between the two of them for a moment and says, "Jesse, can I talk to you for a second? Alone?"

"No way, you can say anything in front of Jane you'd say to me," Jesse says defensively. Jane fights back a smile.

Saul shrugs. "Well, suit yourself. You're an adult with a lot of cash, you do whatever you want with whoever you want. Getting out of town right now isn't the worst idea I've ever heard, that's for sure." He writes a number on a card and hands it to Jesse, who studies it for a moment, then carefully puts it in his wallet. "You call this number, you ask for a dust filter for a Hoover Max Extract 60 Pressure Pro. He'll get you all set up with passports, credit cards, everything you need."

"Can we pick our new names?" Jesse asks.

Saul says, "It's _your_ new life, I'm sure you get some input."

"Cuz I want a cool name, like--" Jesse starts.

Saul cuts him off, holding up a hand and shaking his head. "Uh uh uh, don't tell me! The less I know, the better. You know, in case anybody comes asking."

"Oh, yeah, right," Jesse says, nodding furiously. Then he solemnly shakes Saul's hand and says, "Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

"Before you disappear, there's also the small matter of my referral fee…" Saul says.

Jesse counts out a small stack of cash from their bag and hands it over. Saul smiles, extends a hand, and says, "Jesse, always a pleasure. May the road rise to meet you, and all that."

"Oh, yeah, you too."

Saul offers a hand to Jane, too, and says, "Jane, pleasure to meet you. _Bon voyage_."

Jane hates the feel of Saul's hand on her hand, but she shakes it once and nods. Soon, they'll be out of this office, out of this country, out of this life. Soon.

Out in the car, Jesse makes the call. They drive to a meeting point where they abandon their car and get a ride to a weird old vacuum repair store where a weird old man interviews them. As it turns out, they do get to pick their new names, and Jane is paralyzed with indecision. She's never been able to commit to a tattoo, how is she supposed to commit to a new _name_? Jesse gleefully picks Luke Walker for himself--"Like Star Wars, yo!", but she frowns.

Ed says, "I can pick for you."

Jesse says, "What about Georgia? Like the painter lady?"

"Yeah. Sure. I'll be Georgia," Jane says. 

"Georgia Walker?" Ed asks.

"No, I'd keep my own last name," Jane says. "Uh… Georgia Jones," she decides. It was her mother's maiden name, but it's common enough that no one would make the connection.

"Fine. I should be able to get everything ready for you by tomorrow," Ed says, and he does. 

They don't have any trouble with their new passports, but their flight--or flights, rather--are _awful_ , even though they've gone first class. Jane's still junk-sick, and they can't even smoke. She snaps at Jesse when he gets excited over things like free headphones or hot hand towels. If she's being honest, she knows she's being a total bitch, but if she doesn't quietly snap at Jesse she might start screaming and not stop.

Including layovers, the trip takes 26 hours but it's two days later when they land in Auckland. Jane is tired, and her skin is dried out, and she's thirsty as hell… but by New Zealand time, she's five days sober, and she already feels stronger.

It's summer in New Zealand, and when they step outside the airport the air is warm and humid. A soft summer rain is falling, and the air smells so fresh and clean. Jane takes in a deep breath and smiles at Jesse. "We made it," she says. 

He smiles back, his face like a little kid on Christmas morning. He squeezes her hand and says, "We really made it!" Then he reaches in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes and says, "Oh, fuck, I need a lighter. Do you have one?"

Jane reaches in her purse and pulls out a pack of matches. They're from Star Bar in Albuquerque, and she thinks about how she'll never go back to Star Bar ever again. It doesn't bother her. She never really liked that place, anyway. She and Jesse both light up cigarettes, and the first hit of nicotine makes her feel so much better.

Jane takes another drag on her cigarette and then steps out from under the awning that covers a small section of sidewalk in front of the airport. "Babe, it's raining," Jesse says.

"I know. Don't you want to feel it on your skin?" she asks, tilting her face up to the rain. "It feels amazing." 

Jesse watches her for a moment before his grin widens and he joins her outside the awning. He puts his arms around her and Jane no longer feels like a sick, jet-lagged monster. She feels like a girl who's lucky enough to be getting a clean start, and she dances with Jesse in the rain while waiting for the next taxi to take them off to their new life.

**Author's Note:**

> A few lines of dialogue are quoted directly from the episode "Phoenix," written by John Shiban.


End file.
